


Small Talk

by chibixkadaj



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, Songfic, Sorry Taeyong is kind of a brat, Unstable Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15168584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibixkadaj/pseuds/chibixkadaj
Summary: You and I were- You and I were fireworks. Setting off too soon.Based on Fall Out Boy's 'Fourth of July': https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1j4Pf228vhE





	Small Talk

“And that was ‘Fireworks,’ another hit from this year’s up and coming singer-songwriter Johnny Seo. Are you a fan of this rising star? Make sure to tune in during tomorrow’s ‘NNN Radio’ special to catch his personal inter—”

It would’ve been easier to turn the radio off but Taeyong opted to spin the dial until nothing but static croaked through the car speakers. The sound engulfed him completely, ringing through his ears and drowning out his own groan as his head fell against the steering wheel. The light had long turned green and soon enough the honking of agitated drivers behind him were also being swallowed by the overly loud sounds from the radio. Taeyong could care, but he didn’t. Just like he could’ve turned Johnny’s song off. But he didn’t.

He eventually made his way back to reality and kicked his car back into gear just before police intervention was needed to get him moving. But now, Taeyong didn’t even know where he wanted to be anymore. He was going somewhere—the grocery store, to pick up food. Eating seemed tediously unnecessary and he didn’t _need_ to spend this money now if it was all going to rot in his refrigerator anyway. Just like the last batch of groceries he’d purchased. He flipped his signal on far too late to indicate the illegal U-turn he was making and to head right the fuck on home. It was his day off and he wanted to spend it productively. A nap could be productive, he decided, a nice long nap at home.

Eventually the static became grating enough that Taeyong returned to the station he’d been listening to when Johnny’s all-too-familiar voice crooned through. It happened again. The hour must have reset, Johnny kicking the next playlist off with a bang as loud as the fireworks he sung about, and Taeyong instantly regretted that his hadn’t brought his iPod along with him. Not that it would’ve helped much. With the radio DJs playing the same set of Top 40 tracks meant that Johnny had a fifty percent chance of being played per hour, not counting time for commercials. Which meant the probability that Taeyong, between the three stations he listened to, would hear Johnny was far higher than the dirty blond male wanted it to be. What was worse…the chances of Johnny creeping up on his iPod playlist were still even higher.

The populated city streets soon gave way to open clearings. Taeyong’s apartment rested far behind him, back amidst the other tall buildings and corner convenience stores. It didn’t register when he decided to give up on going home or what exactly decided to bring him to _this_ place at _this_ time. A sigh passed his lips, fingers slipping the car into park and pulling the keys to be crushed against his palm. There was a burn there, the slight feeling of jagged metal pressing to his skin, and he reveled in it as he stepped out into the cool spring air. His mind questioned the purpose of being here, of all places, but his feet hardly seemed to mind as they carried him from the cobbled pathway and into the sand dunes. Being so close to the water made the wind bite at his skin harder and maybe Taeyong should’ve swung home to get a jacket first—but then, that meant thinking this through and Taeyong definitely wouldn’t do that. And it seemed, as he approached his favorite boulder, he wasn’t the only one.

Johnny was perched as he often had been during their time together—back hunched, one knee bent with a notepad balanced precariously against his thigh. Taeyong always thought the pose didn’t make sense for writing but Johnny said he was never more productive than in those moments where he was hunched over and running the risk of losing all of his work entirely.

Also just…how was he, Johnny the up and coming idol to watch out for, actually sitting in front of Taeyong right now? So casual, so familiar. Taeyong had to be dreaming. He paused.

Johnny heard the rustle of someone approaching and braced himself, burying his face further into the seasonally inappropriate scarf wrapped around his neck. Running would cause suspicion and Johnny wanted to draw as little attention to himself. Besides, he was well hidden with his scarf, sunglasses, and snapback, no one would be able to recognize him. No one but Taeyong.

Glass hidden eyes fell onto the slightly younger male beneath him and nearly sent Johnny tumbling from his perch. “T-Taeyong,” he gasped, scrambling down from the boulder and towards his-…well, he didn’t know what to call Taeyong anymore. “What are you doing here?”

Taeyong, whether it was because of shock or anger or some combination of both, didn’t move. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t find it in him. Instead he started shaking uncontrollably until the first words to leave his lips were “Fuck,” just in acknowledgement of his own condition.

Johnny’s eyes widened beneath the sunglasses and he launched forward like on instinct. “Taeyong it’s okay,” his deep voice fell softly on Taeyong’s ears as his hands rubbed over Taeyong’s shoulders. Johnny remembered all his spots: the back of his biceps, onto his elbows, then all the way to the back of his neck. Johnny was gently reminding Taeyong to breathe, just like he used to during Taeyong’s previous panic attacks.

Of course Johnny remembered how to handle him. Johnny was the only one to take the time to learn. 

When Taeyong eventually came around it wasn’t without a shove to Johnny’s shoulder; a silent demand for him to _“get the fuck away.”_ Johnny went easily, hands up at his side while he took a few steps back. “You alright?”

Taeyong bypassed the question with one of his own, “What are you doing here?”

“I mean… I always come here when I’m working.”

“ _We_ always _came_ here,” Taeyong corrected, causing Johnny to flinch.

“Right. We came here. But I like it here and it gives me a lot of inspiration so—Oh, don’t give me that look!”

Taeyong’s face had contorted before he even realized it, eyes rolling back with a scoff poised on his lips. He wasn’t buying it. But Johnny wasn’t going to take this either. "I brought you here in the first place because I wanted to share it with you. You can’t just claim it back from me now.”

“I can claim whatever I want to,” Taeyong snipped back.

“Well it’s just as much mine as it’s yours and I’m going to be staying here.”

Taeyong bit a little too hard on the inside of his cheek. God he hated Johnny’s stubbornness; hated that Johnny was not just going to acquiesce like Taeyong wanted—no, needed; like he used to do. Johnny could see it, too. Taeyong’s seams were fraying and he was so close to falling apart under Johnny’s gaze. He never wanted it to be this way. “I’ll go to the other end just…calm down, okay? I didn’t want to bother you I just needed a new song.”

“For tomorrow’s radio show?” Taeyong asked before his mind caught up with him.

“Uh…Yeah that,” Johnny raised a brow, pulling his sunglasses down his nose just a tad. “How do you know about that?”

“It’s hard not to when you’re everywhere. You’re all anyone’s talking about.” Taeyong folded his arms across his chest, sure that if there was any sort of music source around them it would be playing Johnny’s songs. Johnny seemed rather unsettled by the remark. He reached behind to tug at the small hairs on the back of his neck, eyes looking anywhere but Taeyong. Of course he knew his own popularity but to hear it from Taeyong? That was something else entirely. And Taeyong knew it, too; knew that the only person Johnny really wanted attention from was him.

So he’d give it; just maybe not in the exact ways wanted of him.

“But all you’re talking about is me, isn’t that right?” Taeyong’s lips quirked into a lop-sided smirk. Johnny paled. “All of your songs,” Taeyong pressed further. “I mean, ‘Fireworks’? We used to set those off on New Year’s and our birthdays. And then ‘Bridges burned’ when we broke up and you decided not to contact me anymore—”

“You blocked my number.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Taeyong listen to yourself,” the pad of paper and pen fell to the rocky ground with a hard thud, Johnny’s hands thrown up into the air. “This is getting out of hand. You know I never wanted to break up with you. You _know_ that I’d take you back in a heartbeat if I knew it was right for us but it’s not. If this is how you’re acting when you’re nervous around me, we both know it’s only going to be worse when you’re comfortable again.” Though they left his own lips, it was still Johnny wincing at each word; watching as Taeyong’s face betrayed every want in his body to stay calm and composed. “But…” Johnny picked up again, back to his usual habit of looking away and rubbing at his neck. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry that—”

“Every song’s about me,” Taeyong finished, though his mind had hardly moved along with the conversation. “Why do you make every song about me?”

Johnny, stunned silent, merely stared at Taeyong for a few moments. Maybe…no, not maybe. This was dumb. Johnny knew this was dumb. But still his feet had him stepping forwards anyway. He paused only to pick up his notepad and pencil, tugging one under his arm and the other over his ear, and then continued to let himself be dragged forward. Just as silently as he’d moved, Johnny leaned in and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Taeyong’s lips—unlike anything they’d shared before. “I wonder,” was all he left the other with as he turned, staying true to his promise to stay out of Taeyong’s way.

x

Taeyong woke to the radio that next morning, unsure of when he got into bed and why he was still in his outfit from the day before. He also couldn’t help but wonder why his hair was so sticky…

It was his alarm clock that had succeeded where Ten’s numerous “wake up calls” had failed. The radio was crooning gently across the room, filling what would otherwise be silence. He was back on NNN radio and a voice so familiar was greeting the still sleepy eyed Taeyong that it took him more than a few beats to recognize Johnny’s interview playing over the airwaves.

“A new song?” The host asked cushioned amidst a wave of giggles. “Can we hear a sample? What’s it called?”

“’Small Talk,’” Johnny answered with his own laugh. “I don’t have much, mostly a few lines but…”

“Oh, share it! You know your fans would love to hear it.”

“Ah, I think…Well,” Johnny, ever bashful, was sliding his notepad over to the host. No one could hear it, but Taeyong could tell.  _“The torture of small talk with someone you used to love.”_

“Beautiful,” The host awed after, the line still linger in her voice. And in Taeyong’s head.

“Beautiful…” Taeyong repeated, smashing his face into the pillow, “like someone you _used_ to love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holiday to those who celebrate!  
> Come chat with me on Twitter: @ChibiKadaj or CuriousCat: https://curiouscat.me/ChibixKadaj


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